


War of the tricksters

by TrickstersLittleHelper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Crack, Gen, POV Female Character, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Prank War, Pranks, Reader-Insert, almost smut at the end but not really, non-human reader, trickster!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickstersLittleHelper/pseuds/TrickstersLittleHelper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gabriel steals the last bag of the readers favorite treats all out war breaks out. Only problem is that when tricksters wage war it's deceptive, devious, and underhanded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War of the tricksters

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically pure crack. I was over-caffinated, sleep deprived, and bored out of my mind when this happened. Hopefully you will find it amusing to read, cause I sure as heck had fun writing it.

“Gabriel! Get your sorry, winged ass in here right now!” your voice rang out through the bunker. You could hear the faint cussing of Sam out in the library as your outburst caught him by surprise, and even Dean stopped and poked his head in to the kitchen. But no sign of the accursed archangel who you currently considered strangling.

“Gabriel, I’m not joking. Get your ass in here or you will never know peace again!” You heard Dean gulp, and then quick, heavy footsteps as he left. He knew better than to be in the blast-radius when you lost your temper.

You heard the flutter of wings behind you and rounded on the angel. He didn’t even get out his normal, overly sweet greeting before you slapped his face hard enough to leave a red hand-print on his face.

“Ow what the hell is wrong with you?!” Gabriel shot you a nasty glare while rubbing his sore cheek.

“This.” You held up an empty, party sized bag of M&M’s. “Know anything about it? Cause I got it yesterday and I haven’t touched it.” you leveled your best steely gaze at the archangel turned trickster, but it didn’t seem to have much effect on him as he shrugged.

“Nope, no idea. Checked with Thing 1 and Thing 2?” he smiled innocently at you, but something about how his eyebrows made a little dance before shooting halfway up his forehead told you he was lying. Well that and logic of course.

“Sam the health freak doesn’t eat candy, remember?” you countered, “And since it’s not pie, beer, or a heart-attack in a bun, I really doubt Dean had anything to do with this.” you must have made some sort of face at the thought of Deans diet, cause when you were done Gabriel was chuckling at you.

“So what if I did?” he smirked, “It’s not like you can’t just snap up another bag, right?” he winked at you. He actually had the audacity to stand there, in the middle of the kitchen, basically admitting to his crime, and wink at you.

“Gabriel, you can do that.” You somehow managed to keep your voice even as you approached him. “I however am a real trickster, not some angel playing make-believe, meaning that while I can ‘snap up another bag’ it tastes like shit.” You felt the corner of your mouth start to twitch dangerously. “You on the other hand could have ‘snapped up’ a bag on your own instead of stealing mine.”

Gabriel seemed to contemplate this for a moment as he rocked back on his heels and stared at the ceiling. “Sure I could have,” he admitted thoughtfully, “but it actually does takes some effort, especially to get the taste just right, and well, ‘your’ bag was just sitting right there in the cabinet, so of course I saved myself the effort and grabbed that one.” He looked back at you, grinning like a cat with a canary in it’s mouth.

“You do understand that this means war, right?” you said venomously and poked Gabriel in the chest.

“Oh, you’re on.” With a snap of his fingers another bag of M&M’s appeared in his hands, and with a triumphant grin he sauntered out of the kitchen, happily munching on his candy, and leaving you to quietly fume, and plot.

The next day started with Cas declaring he had ‘urgent business’ at some unknown location and taking of like his wings were on fire, and then Sam and Dean refusing to get take sides, or ‘get dragged into’ whatever you and Gabriel were up to ‘this time’. You hadn’t exactly appreciated what they were insinuating, and were about to tell them as much when a somewhat irritated Gabriel stalked in to the common room.

“Slept well Gabe?” You smirked at him and enjoyed the sight of your handiwork. Gabriel might be an angel and technically not need sleep, but you knew for a fact that he enjoyed it anyway. You also knew that he slept like a dead man when he did sleep. And that he liked to spread his wings when going to bed. So of course you had used that knowledge against him.

“Clearly.” he huffed, and then glared at the Winchesters as they noticed Gabriel and the state of his wings and burst out laughing. The archangels normally golden, fluffy wings were now an odd shade of pink, and each of the six wings looked like it had been dipped in glue and then covered in glitter. He couldn’t even get the wings to separate properly, and folding them looked highly uncomfortable.

“Low blow kiddo, low blow.” He grumbled as he forced his sticky wings into some other plane of existence and out of sight before heading for the front door. Just before he walked out you heard the distinctive snap of his fingers and a shrill laugh. And then as the door slammed shut behind him you felt your body shift.

“Umm... nice ears.” you turned to Sam, a questioning look on your face.

“And tail.” Dean added, grinning.

You reached up and felt your ears. They were fuzzy, elongated, and seemed to be standing straight up. You pulled on them experimentally and managed to get the tip of one of them to bend down to where you could see it properly. It seemed to be a slightly dirty shade of gray. Next you reached for your tail and pulled that in to view. It had the same gray fur as your ears, with a black tuft on the end. You frowned for a moment, trying to remember why this felt familiar, and then it dawned on you.

“If that little asshole is pulling a Pinocchio I’m going to kill him!” The Disney movie of the same name had been on TV the other night, and Gabriel had walked in as the boys were getting turned in to donkeys, and of course he’d do something like that. You could only hope that he’d stop at giving you ears and a tail, cause otherwise things would get awkward fast.

After laughing at you for a good five minutes Sam and Dean eventually calmed down enough to help you find a hat that would hide your new ears, and after changing in to the most baggy pair of pants you could find Dean gracefully offered to inspect your behind to make sure your tail wasn’t showing when you moved. Despite the loose fitting pants you could tell he was enjoying himself as he kept making you turn around and walk in front of him. By the third time you were ready to slap him. Or grow a pair of boobs on him. But you suspected he’d have way to much fun with the latter.  
The day continued like that. You’d pull one prank on Gabriel and he’d pull something different to get even, and by the end of the day the bunker looked like a clown posse and a flight of faeries had waged all out war in it. More worryingly your entire wardrobe had been turned various shades of pink, purple, and bright greens. Even your jeans were pink with green polka dots. And you still had your new ears and tail. You were less than happy when Sam and Dean had summoned you and Gabriel to the library. Not called. Not asked politely. They had outright summoned both of you, complete with wards to trap you and everything.

“All right guys, enough is enough. Some of us actually have to sleep.” Dean said, glaring between you and Gabriel.

“And? You’re not part of this?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow, and suddenly you weren’t convinced the wards would actually be able to hold him if they had to.

“Really?” Sam gave Gabriel the bitch-face to end all bitch-faces and pointed to his rainbow colored hair. You weren’t sure who did that, but you thought it looked adorable.

“Sammy, it’s not that bad, really. Now please let us out?” The glare Sam shot you seemed to suggest that he didn’t quite agree with you, and that he didn’t want to be called Sammy right now.

“Only if you two agree to knock it off for 8 hours so we can get some damned sleep.” Dean said as Sam fidgeted with something behind him.

Gabriel shrugged and looked over too you. “What do you say kiddo? We can let them have their beauty sleep, right?”

You actually had to think about it. Not because their request was unreasonable, but Gabriel seemed to go along with it much to quickly for your taste. But you also realized that the wards the brothers had set up were more than powerful enough to keep you trapped, and there was no way Gabriel would stay put if he didn’t have to, so eventually you nodded in agreement. “All right, we’ll play nice for 8 hours.” You even shook on it, but the smirk on both your lips told the other than you wouldn’t be sleeping that night.

As soon as it was quiet in the bunker you snuck out of your room with a book under your arm and a backpack slung over your shoulder. You were certain Gabriel was already out and about but you had no idea what he was up to, and right now you didn’t care. You had bigger fish to fry, and you had decided it was time to play dirty.

You continued down the hallway, pausing every so often to make sure no one was around, and eventually you made it out to the library, then the common room and front door. You took a deep breath as you pushed the door open, willing it to be quiet, and then used a little bit of magic to help it close without waking anyone up.

With the hard part over you drew a little cloaking sigil around you to mask the energy of your magic from Gabriel and then teleported yourself to a field on the other side of the town. Once there you set up the same sigil again, and then inside of that a summoning spell much like the one the brothers had used earlier in the evening, only a bit more powerful, and without all the wards around it.

Once you were done you took a deep breath to calm yourself and silently prayed that the one you were about to reach out for was in a reasonably good mood. After all he wasn’t known for his love of pagans like yourself, and if we were being logical this might be considered a tad bit overkill. A cold wind picked up and smacked a wet autumn leaf in your face, effectively bringing you back to reality. Of course this wasn’t overkill, this was war, and besides, you were only looking for some advice. 

By the end of your incantation the cold wind was practically freezing, and the previously wet leaves in the field were stiff with frost and crunched under your feet.

“And you are?” A calm, if somewhat bored voice said from behind you. Damned angels always had a thing for trying to startle people it seemed.

“A friend of Gabriel’s.” You replied, trying to sound just as calm as you turned to face the Devil.

“Interesting. And I should care, why?” Lucifer replied as he slowly circled you. 

“Because I need your help.” You watched as your breath turned into a white wisp of smoke in the cold night.

Lucifer eventually came to a stop in front of you, arms crossed and an expectant look on his face. “You must be quite desperate or exceedingly foolish to come to me for help. But I admit I’m curious.”

On the one hand you were starting to really question your decision making skills here, but on the other hand you were still alive and, if a bit cold, well. Not to mention you had the Devils undivided attention, and you seriously doubted he’d let you go with an ‘wrong number, sorry to bother you’ type of excuse. So you did the only logical, reasonable thing and told him everything. You told him about how you, Gabriel, and the boys normally got along just fine, but how Gabriel had recently started to screw with you. How stuff would suddenly disappear, change color, or simply have been turned into something else entirely. You told him about how you had had a really shitty week, and had to go three hours out of your way to find your favorite candy to calm your nerves, and how Gabriel had just taken yours when he could have created his own. You showed him the donkey ears and tail you had been saddled with, and explained how everything you currently touched for more than a few seconds turned some horribly bright, garish color and how all food and sweets seemed to taste like a combination of rotten fish and cotton candy. And you told him how you wanted to teach Gabriel a lesson and end this prank war.

By the end of your tale Lucifer was staring at you in complete and utter disbelief. “Let me get this straight, you summoned me to help you prank my little brother?” he sounded more than a little skeptical as he said that.

“Umm, yes?” You managed, and had the decency to look sheepish while you were at it. “I admit I may not have thought this all the way through, but I figured if anyone would know how to get even with him it’d be you?” a nervous laugh escaped you as you waited for Lucifer’s reaction.

To your surprise he came closer to you and put two fingers against your forehead. He looked reluctant, almost disgusted as he did so, and the cold, raw, power that flowed through you at his touch was nothing like Gabriel’s gentle, mischievous fire. But you felt it undoing everything Gabriel had done to you, and despite the numbness and pain that came with it you were grateful for it. The rotten fish burps were getting extremely old.

“Gabriel despises dark chocolate, licorice and salty or sour things. And when it comes to chocolate never looks before eating. Do with that as you will.” The Devil smirked as he stepped back from you. He was gone before you got a chance to thank him, but as you gathered your things you sent him a grateful thought.

You spent much of the remaninder of the night gathering the ingredients for your prank. In all honesty you could get most of it at the local Walmart, but the thing that eluded you was the salty licorice. But you had expected that to be difficult to come by and in the end you had spent a couple of hours calling up your old Scandinavian friends. Most of them didn’t have any, and the ones who did were more than happy to inform you, in vividly graphic detail, what would happen if you tried to steal any.  
But in the end you managed to get some. Sure you had to spend an hour zapping yourself down to Florida, and another one being nice and pleasant to an old troll. By the time you got back to the bunker you were exhausted and wanted to sleep, but you were running short on time, not to mention you had been gone for way to long to trust that Gabriel hadn’t turned your entire room in to one giant booby trap.

You ended up having to use whatever energy you had left in you to move things along in the kitchen, but it was worth it. You had just finished cleaning up and were humming happily when you heard Dean’s voice echo through the bunker. It sounded angry. And between the expletives was your name. It was enough to make you twitch nervously as you slowly made your way through the bunker, trying to locate the angry hunter.

You eventually found Dean in the garage. Hoping against all hope you had checked everywhere else in the bunker first, but a dread feeling in the pit of your stomach had told you exactly where you’d find him. Steeling yourself for the inevitable shit storm you stuck your head through the door.

“Yes Dean?” You said as innocently as possible. Of course you had nothing to do with whatever had pissed Dean of this time, but knowing that and convincing him of it were two entirely different things.

“What the hell did you do to Baby?!” The tone actually made you flinch as you took a look at the impala. You blinked a couple of times, and then your face made an elaborate dance as you tried to not laugh. The normally sleek black paint job had been replaced by a horrid shade of green and blue, and there were little orange hippie flowers above the wheel wells. To top it off there was a big mastiff looking dog in the back seat, head hanging out the window, and happily drooling down the side of the car. You watched in fascination as the dog-slobber ran down the cartoonish lettering on the side, which cheerily proclaimed the car to be ‘The Mystery Machine’.

“You think I had something to do with this?” Even if this wasn’t your handiwork, and you would get in trouble for it, you grinned. After all, it was always flattering to be compared to someone of Gabriel’s caliber.

“Yhea. I do.” He tossed some candy wrappers at your feet, including an empty single serving M&M’s bag. He might as well have dropped your business card.

“Dean, I swear I had nothing-” Dean’s fist connected with your face before you could finish your sentence and you crumbled to the floor. If you were human that right-hook would have knocked you out cold without a problem. As it were tricksters were closer to gods than humans, and while Dean had caught you off-guard and sent you to the floor he hadn’t managed much else. Still, the taste of your own blood in your mouth made you angry. Angry that Dean, an ally if not a friend, hadn’t even wanted to hear you out. But there was something else there, wounded pride and indignation. A mere human had dared to punch you, forced you to the ground like a peasant, and drawn your blood. You who were once worshiped as a deity in your own right? No, you weren’t just angry with Dean, you were furious, and as you rolled away from him and back on your feet that fury glittered in your eyes.

But Dean was no fool, and while you had taken your time with finding him, he had had enough time to prepare himself and the wooden stake now in his hands made you hesitate. It was covered in something, something you were sure would allow it to harm you, and you were well aware that Dean was an experienced hunter. Not to mention you were completely burned out from teleporting halfway across the country and back during the night.

“Dean I didn’t touch your damned car, all right?” you forced your gaze away from the ugly looking wooden stake and to Deans eyes, searching them for intent, and what you found almost scared you. Those green depths shone with the same rage and indignation you felt when he punched you, and suddenly you felt a small twinge of sympathy for the hunter. Even if you also knew that if he was as angry as you thought he were he’d drive that stake through your heart without a second thought. If you were lucky he might mourn you over a glass of cheap whiskey later.

“Just hear me out, please?” You took a few slow steps away from him, quickly glancing over your shoulder to locate the door. If things went bad you fully intended to make a run for it, and once you were outside of the bunkers walls and wards you’d teleport yourself as far away from Kansas as you could. You heard Jamaica was lovely this time of year. Or well that was your plan right up until you saw Sam’s tall frame blocking the way, and to add insult to injury Gabriel was waving to you from behind the safety of the younger Winchester.

Dean nodded brusquely and you continued. “I had nothing to do with this because Gabriel set this up to make you think it was me.” you explained.

“So you’re saying he pulled a prank on me, to pull a prank on you?” He glanced over to where his brother and Gabriel stood, then gave you a skeptical look. “I’m not buying it.”

“Oh come on Dean, this has Gabriel written all over it!” You waved your hands at the car, and the dog that was still in the backseat for some reason. “Cheesy TV reference? Check. Twix wrappers everywhere? Check. Knowing just what buttons to push to make you completely lose your mind? Check and check again.” You gave the archangel a deadly glare. If you survived this you would... well you’d think of something.

“Or you did this, trying to frame Gabe, but did a shitty job when planting evidence.” Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest and you gave him an incredulous look.

“Dean... this whole mess got started cause Gabriel grabbed the last bag of regular M&M’s to be had in basically all of Kansas. Do you think this would have been such a big deal if I had a backup stash?” you calmly explained, but Dean didn’t seem to be buying it.

It was at this point Sam finally came over to where you were arguing. “Dean, if nothing else doesn’t have the power to create a dog out of thin air. Gabriel does.” You felt a wave of relief wash over you and nodded in agreement as Sam defended you. Dean may not believe you, but he’d listen to Sam.

Dean still didn’t seem convinced and seemed like he was ready to start another argument when Gabriel sighed dramatically and sauntered up. He stopped short just out of Deans reach and help up his hands. “All right, all right, it was me. Happy now?” he snapped his fingers and returned the impala to it’s original state.

“If you ever touch Baby again I’ll kill you.” Dean poked Gabriel in the chest with the wooden stake he was still holding and stomped out of the garage. The archangel made a face, suspiciously like that of a sullen three-year old when the hunter slammed the garage door behind him.

“So does this mean you two are done now?” Sam asked hopefully.

“I suppose we are.” Gabriel shrugged and pulled out a big, yellow bag that said ‘Peanut M&M’s’ in bright colors.

“Since I kind of don’t want to die, I guess so.” you eyed the bag in Gabriel’s hands and he grinned at you, ripped the bag open and offered Sam some. When Sam predictably declined the offer he reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of the colored candies for himself.

“Sorry kiddo, spoils of war and all that.” he smirked and popped a candy in to his mouth.

His reaction had both you and Sam doubled over in laughter. The way his face contorted in disgust, the almost panicked cough, and the attempt to wipe the taste of his tongue with his hands. He finally zapped himself up a large glass of water and downed it in an attempt to wash the sour-dark-chocolate-salty-licorice flavor out of his mouth.

“What in the name of creation did you do?!” he sounded utterly offended, and once you wiped the tears out of your eyes you saw a look of indignancy to match the tone of voice.

“A trickster never tells her secrets.” You grinned triumphantly. “But as long as you don’t touch my chocolate this won’t ever happen again.” Gabriel’s face was still going through various disgusted, defeated, pouty, and betrayed expressions when you heard a camera noise, and looked over to see Sam with his phone in his hands, camera aimed at Gabriel, and grinning ear to ear.

Gabriel shot Sam such a nasty glare that the younger Winchester swallowed nervously and quickly removed himself from the garage and your general vicinity.  
“Fine. You win this one.” he admitted once Sam was gone. “I’ll leave your sweets alone.” he continued and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself.

“Just please, for the love of everything that’s holy, help me get this mess out of my wings!” with a desperate expression and a crackle of thunder and distant lightning he pulled his wings into your plane of existence, and sure enough they were still a pink, glittery, sticky mess. If possible they looked even worse than the day before. Then they had just looked glued together, now you couldn’t tell where one wing ended and another began.

You chuckled softly and slowly sauntered up to the slightly panicked archangel. “I don’t know, glittery pink kind of suits you Gabe.” you cooed and started to untangle one of the long flight feathers.

“It’s not funny. Do you have any idea how sensitive an angels wings are?” he snapped.

An idea suddenly crossed your mind and you grinned at him. “So angel wings are sensitive huh?” you leaned your face in close to the feather you had separated from the rest of the sticky mess and ran your tongue down it’s length. When you glanced up at Gabriel’s face he had the most delicious look of utter shook and pure bliss on his face. You got to the tip of the feather and slowly sucked it clean, returning it to it’s normal, golden color, and teasing a low moan from the archangel.

And then you just stopped and straightened up like nothing at all had happened. “It’s just thick sugar water and food coloring, cupcake. A hot shower will wash it right out.” you winked at him and started to walk away.

Just before you got out of earshot you heard a quiet, frustrated, “Yhea, well, I’m gonna need a very cold one...” and you burst out laughing. Sure, you almost got killed over a prank today, but when you were good you were damned good!


End file.
